Jon Reskind - The abducted bride

The vile squeak of the rat penetrated through her thoughts into her inner conscious mind. It too was part of the evil picture. It was the conqueror, the thing against which she could not fight. She knew she would have submitted to any demands, no matter how depraved, to keep that evil creature away from her, to keep its monstrous teeth from tearing at her body. This she would have done with or without the deadening potion she was now awaiting to lift consciousness from her tortured brain. It would only make it bearable, like Novocain when one had a tooth pulled, it didn't eliminate the horrible tearing at one's flesh, only hid it from the mind of the patient.

The door opened.

Oh God, she thought, not yet. I'm not ready. I can still feel. Wait, wait please!

She prayed in fevered anguish for the drug to work, to cover her nakedness with the invisible cloak of unconsciousness.

But it didn't.

"Remember, my friend, fifteen minutes for your two dollars, no more," the voice of the Arab reminded cheerfully from the hallway. "And do not mark the girl."

The squeak of the rat resounded through the room as it heard its master's voice from the distance. It was hungry and the harsh scratching sounds of its paws clawing against the side of the cage silenced a cry building deep within Jean's fear-quaking body.

A short fat man, dressed in the sweat-soaked clothes of a dock-worker, entered and closed the door behind him. His eyes flickered in appreciation when he saw the delicious young feast spread defenseless on the bed. Jean had hoped, somewhere deep in her mind, that the bonds tying her to the bed would stir his conscience and he would call the police. One look at his lust-filled face dispelled this hope. The Arab was too clever. He would not bring men who say eye to eye with the law. He would choose his clientele well, probably those wanted by the law themselves. The quarter around the hotel was filled with them.

The dock-worker removed his shirt, silently staring at her with undisguised rapaciousness visible in his eyes. His huge barrel chest covered with ape-like hair, rose and fell in short puffing gasps as he dropped his pants to the floor. His short fat cock jerked into view beneath an overhanging roll of fat from his white belly.

Jean's eyes bulged in terror. The tea! The tea! Why didn't it work?

And, suddenly, it did, but not the way she had expected.

The first piercing warning of Shalla's betrayal came as the man leaned gleefully over the edge of the bed and began running has rough callused hands over her smooth cringing flesh.

Her reaction was violent!

A deep indescribable electrifying shock shot through the frayed nerve-ends of her body like a thousand tiny sharp needles. Laughing red devils danced wickedly along the inner softness of her thighs. Her buttocks ground desperately into the mattress to quench a searing hot flame suddenly licking hungrily at her nakedness. It was futile, the fire roared headlong out of control. She lay immobile for a moment, her mind struggling hopelessly against the pin-pricks of sensation following the path of the course fingers digging into her flesh.

He played cruelly on, unaware of the hopeless battle raging within the tortured girl beneath his kneading hands. He placed his thumbs on the fleshy lips of hair lining the outside of her cunt and pulled slowly apart. Jean lay holding her breath and fighting with all her moral strength.

It was not enough, her resistance shattered.

She groaned, the exquisite feeling of air rushing over the rising bud of her exposed clitoris. It rippled up her now quivering belly and out into the nipples of her throbbing tits, drowning out the debasing humiliation of the strange hands roaming over her nakedness. The straining muscles of her thighs relaxed loosely, her white ivory breasts rose and fell heavily with her labored breath.

The man's tongue licked nervously at his thick mouth, small beads of sweat formed over his upper lip as he watched the gradual transformation of the girl beneath his stroking fingers. He did not understand and did not care, he would not question a gift like this – only a fool would.

He could not wait. He pushed her unresisting thighs wide with the rough palms of his hands and crawled eagerly over between their lush fullness. The devils danced faster around the rough pink edges of Jean's naked cunt as she felt the bed sag from his weight. It felt like a wet hot tunnel, and it had to be filled. Her eyes locked greedily on the fat thick cock dangling from his kneeling body above her. Suddenly forgotten was the evil animal lurking in the cage on the table; forgotten were the fears of humiliation. She needed but one thing now; she needed that cock! More than anything else in the world!

Even as her mind fought the repulsive sight of the kneeling fat body hovering between the slimness of wide-stretched thighs, her legs kicked out uncontrollably and her heels curled around his hips. She jerked forward wildly, pulling him with a grunt, heavily on top of her writhing body. He guided the thick blood-filled head straight into her throbbing cunt, his heavy weight smashing her with a deep moan far down into the mattress. He levered up, ramming his rod as deep as it would go into the hungry clasping pussy. His balls smacked heavily against her upturned ass, his fat hairy stomach bored hotly into the yielding softness of her belly.

Jean strained against the ropes but they held, cruelly cutting into her wrists and causing her teeth to gnash tightly together to drive back the pain of her tortured muscles. She wanted him deeper. She wanted to pull him deeper into her hot quivering cunt but the bonds held her back.

"Fuck deeper, fuck deeper!" she screamed at him in desperation.

He grasped her ass cheeks in both hands and drove his cock to the hilt. It was too short!

She groaned in frustration, splaying her legs wide out over the bed to give him greater access. But it did not help.

As if in apology, the sweating fat man rammed his tongue deep into her wide-open mouth, the saliva drooling down into her throat. She sucked at it in wild frenzy, her body caught up in a whirlpool of naked raw lust that she had never known before. His jerking cock pistoned into her mercilessly, bringing gasps of pain as his pelvis smacked against her crotch, a brutal thud resounding through the room with each pile-driving thrust. She moaned again, he was bringing her to the peak with the brutal pounding of his body alone.

Then – suddenly – as she bucked uncontrollably beneath him, she felt his plunging cock stiffen without warning and spew its white-hot liquid far into the hidden recesses of her tortured womb.

Jean groaned in frustration. It was too soon, too soon. She was almost there, the peak was but a hair away. She strained crazily for it, but the man's dead weight collapsed heavily across her still driving body. The useless deflated prick hung spent between her churning thighs.

She buffeted her wet crotch up against it angrily, tears of frustration running down her passion inflamed cheeks. But the soft rubbery tube gave way limply before her anguished last upward thrusts. He rolled from her body, breathing heavily in satiation, he had gotten his two dollars worth. He smiled happily.

The fire burned on in Jean, even as the man left the room, she was waiting for the next, grinding her buttocks into the mattress in anticipation.

Oh God, she sobbed, the hunger coursing through her like a narcotic. I'm going crazy, crazy. Send me someone! Send me someone!

Shalla's head appeared through the partially open door, a grin of satisfaction on his lips as he saw Jean's drugged body writhing out of control on the bed. He must raise his price and cut the time to ten minutes. Mufta had many clients waiting downstairs and the potion would last for hours. The girl was beyond objecting to anything now. In fact, he thought happily, she would welcome it.